


Spellbound

by mdelpin, Oryu404



Series: Fairy Tail Dads AU [13]
Category: Fairy Tail
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern: No Powers, BUt still magic, Bad Cooking, Dorks in Love, Falling In Love, First Meetings, Flirting, Long Live Sheldon, Love Spell, M/M, Magnolia Dad's Club, Prompt: Fantasy, Shadowlight Week 2020, Sleepovers, ftdadsau, prompt: fall, shadowlightweek2020
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-11
Updated: 2021-01-05
Packaged: 2021-03-01 17:48:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23601088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mdelpin/pseuds/mdelpin, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oryu404/pseuds/Oryu404
Summary: Candles and strips of paper are normal, everyday items, but when combined with a strong enough wish they can become quite powerful.The lines between fantasy and reality blur when Rogue meets someone who could maybe, just maybe, be his literal dream guy.
Relationships: Rogue Cheney/Sting Eucliffe
Series: Fairy Tail Dads AU [13]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1555675
Comments: 3
Kudos: 19
Collections: Fairy Tail Dads AU, Fairy Tail LGBTales, Shadowlight Week 2020





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [icemakestars](https://archiveofourown.org/users/icemakestars/gifts).



> Thank you, Mollie, for being such a constant and enthusiastic supporter of this AU and all our efforts! 💗  
> Your knowledge and beliefs were a huge inspiration for this story. We hope we didn't mangle any of it 😅😆
> 
> Want to talk with us about Fairy Tail, other animes, writing, or our stories? Click on the link to join our discord [The Unholy Trinity](https://discord.gg/HTnthVNZ3V)!

The flames of the candles that sat on the tray at the end of the bathtub flickered softly, making the shadows of the surrounding objects dance against the tiled bathroom wall. Rogue silently observed the movements, taking a deep breath and inhaling the scent of the herb-infused bathwater and the incense that burned in a small dish next to the candles before sliding down and submerging himself. 

He stayed under, enjoying the feel of being suspended in the water until he had no choice but to come back up for air. He wiped his wet hair out of his face and sought the most comfortable position so he could relax and clear away all the unwanted thoughts the day had brought. Today he was determined to rid himself of all the negativity he had been carrying around for too long already. 

The water started to cool down, as he’d been soaking in it peacefully for a while already. He removed the plug from the drain and climbed out, taking the pouch containing the once dried herbs with him to be emptied later. Instead of drying himself off completely, he only dried his hair a little, wrapping the towel around his waist and blowing out the candles on his way out of the bathroom. 

With light steps that left a trail of drops and wet footprints on the wooden floorboards, he crossed the hallway and ascended the staircase to the attic, where his bedroom was situated. He closed the door behind him and unwrapped the towel, laying back on his bed to air-dry in the pleasant warmth of the late spring evening.

The sun was setting, its last rays slipping through the open moonroof, making the bland walls of his room look golden. It was still a few hours away from Rogue’s usual bedtime, even now that the days were getting longer, but when he deemed himself dry enough, he got ready for bed anyway. His eyes traveled over to the altar in the corner as he put on a pair of boxers and a sleepshirt. Once, it had been just an antique coffee table he’d inherited when his grandmother passed away, along with a matching cabinet that he used to store everything he’d collected over the years. Books, minerals, dried herbs and flowers, and lots of other useful items. 

He combed out the tangles of his still damp hair with his fingers, and got comfortable in his bed, going over the checklist in his head to make sure he had everything he’d need for the spell he’d been planning to cast. The timing was important, and he had been waiting quite a while for the right moment to arrive. Where everything aligned from the date, to the hour, to the phase of the moon. 

As the sun sank lower on the horizon, the room slowly darkened. Rogue closed his eyes and let the crickets sing him to sleep. He’d be up before dawn. 

  
  


0-0

  
  


He’d gotten dressed and ready for the day as quietly as possible, as to not wake up his family members, who were sleeping soundly downstairs. The watch on his left wrist told him it was just past 5.15, and as he stood on his toes and stuck his head through the moonroof, he admired the beauty of the sky in its transition from night into day. The sun and the moon, coming together for a short time, against a backdrop of deep blues and violets, joined by a few scattered stars. 

Rogue moved away from the moonroof and took a slow, deep breath, shifting all of his focus onto the task he’d set himself out to complete. He started the familiar ritual, drawing a circle around himself and the altar with a piece of chalk, and cleansing the space, his spell items and himself with a bundle of burning white sage. 

When everything was done, he knelt, starting the preparation of his spell by placing two red candles on the surface of the altar in front of him. With a black-handled blade, he carved his name into the first candle and placed it back into the holder.

“I am a beacon of loving light. Let it shine and summon he who shall be mine,” Rogue spoke softly, lighting the candle after he finished.

He grabbed the next item, a red sheet of paper, and cut it into 12 pieces. On every piece, he would write down a desired trait his ideal partner would have, and he had no trouble coming up with the first trait.

 _‘Considerate,’_ he wrote down neatly in gold ink, not wanting to deal with another possessive and jealous boyfriend. Once the ink had dried, he folded the paper three times. He focused on the word and its meaning, imagining every way he wanted it to be represented in a relationship. When he was done, he grabbed the red velvet pouch from the items he had set out and put the folded paper inside it. 

The next traits he wrote down were _‘Honest,’_ _‘Faithful,’_ _‘Kind,’ ‘Spontaneous,’ ‘Likes animals,’ ‘Confident’_ and _‘A good sense of humor,’_ giving each piece of paper the same treatment as he did the first, but he still had 4 pieces left and found himself unsure as to what he should write on them. 

He thought he’d covered all the personality traits that mattered to him, so he decided to focus on looks next. After all, a great personality wouldn’t make him fall in love if he couldn’t feel any attraction to the package it came in. And although his past crushes and boyfriends didn’t have a lot in common appearance wise, Rogue definitely had a preference, something that had enchanted him since he was old enough to recognize the feeling. 

‘ _Blue eyes,_ ’ he was already imagining it before he scribbled it onto the paper, smiling as he folded it because the stirring in his stomach told him that he’d made the right choice. To go with the blue eyes, he wrote down another silly bias, _‘Blond hair,’_ and now that a visual was starting to form, his imagination was threatening to run away with him. 

Tall, short, or average height? Slim, stocky, muscular? Fair skinned, tanned, or dark? Rogue pondered and fantasized, so many options to choose from and only 2 pieces of paper left. He frowned and pouted, twirling his pen between his fingers as he tried to just pick something, but truth be told, he didn’t really care as long as…

A loud snort escaped him that he managed to muffle behind his right hand as he wrote with his left, _‘Nice ass,’_ scolding himself for having a dirty mind. But then again...not really. 

He pressed his lips together, trying to hold back more chuckles as he indulged in mental images, justifying it with the excuse that the spell required him to. Feeling a warmth creep up from his cheeks to his ears, he forced himself to get his mind out of the gutter before he would get too distracted to finish the spell.

And on that note, for a second he’d considered picking ‘well endowed’ as his final trait, but decided against it, knowing that if he was going to have to envision that and everything that came with it- pun not intended?- there’d be no end to it. Pushing that thought right back to where it came from, he wrote down _‘Neat’_ instead, folded the paper and filled his mind with thoughts of having a boyfriend who was organized, didn’t need to be badgered about doing chores, and dressed smartly. 

Satisfied with his efforts, Rogue put that last piece of paper into the pouch and cupped it in his hands, closing his eyes as he ran through everything he’d written down in his mind until he once again felt that same stirring from earlier. Then he blew a kiss into the pouch and sealed it by pulling the drawstrings. 

He placed it in front of the lit candle, and grabbing the knife again, carved the words’ future lover’ into the other candle before placing it back into its holder, next to the one with his name on it. He moved the red pouch in front of the still unlit candle, again focusing on everything he’d written down on the red pieces of paper, combining all twelve traits into one vision. 

He lit the candle using the flame of the other and finished the spell, “We now share a light, a spark in the night that draws you to me. No harm will be done, so shall it be.”

Filled with faith that the spell had been put into motion, Rogue rose to his feet and broke the magic circle, releasing all the energy inside it into the world. In one of the cabinet drawers, he found a leather cord to tie around the pouch, and after he tied the ends into a small knot, he was able to wear it around his neck. 

Now all that was left for him to do was put away the items he’d used, starting with blowing out the candles before any accidents could happen. The smoke that came off the wicks curled up into the air, filling his room with the unique scent that was one of his favorites, and still a bit moony-eyed from the spell, Rogue got so caught up with enjoying it that he’d forgotten to turn off the smoke alarm. The shrill beeps blared loudly through the house, making him scramble to grab it off the mounting bracket and remove the batteries.

He looked from the smoke alarm that was still busy singing the song of its people in his one hand, to the pair of AA batteries in his other, getting increasingly frustrated from not being able to hear his own thoughts over that most hated sound. But _why_ was it still beeping? And better yet, why did it sound an awful lot like…

Rogue slowly opened his eyes, squinting and blinking to clear his blurry vision. He rolled over in his bed and swept aside the hair that hung in front of his face like a black curtain so he could find the off-button on his alarm clock and put an end to that atrocious sound. Off, not snooze like he usually did at least once before he’d get up, but he was currently too confused and disoriented to even consider trying. 

He scratched his head as he looked around his room, at his window, his regular French door window that didn’t look anything like a moonroof. They didn’t even have an attic. There was no antique cabinet in the corner of his room, no coffee table that served as a magic altar. Just a bookcase and his guitar.

It had all been a dream.

  
  


0-0

  
  


_October 3, 2012_

Rogue padded to the kitchen to make his breakfast still caught up in his dream and how very real it had seemed. He could only imagine it had something to do with the conversation he’d had with Cana the previous night.

Cana had learned to read cards from her mother at a very young age, and after her mother had died, she had continued to learn all sorts of things that most would consider occult. Gildarts had always encouraged it, knowing that it helped her cope with her loss and trusted her to be smart enough not to muck with any dark stuff. Not that she ever would, especially now that she had a young daughter of her own.

When they were younger, both Rogue and his older brother Gray had listened in awe as she told them about some of the things she’d learned. It was all pretty fascinating in theory, although neither one of them had been interested enough to learn how to do it themselves, which was why that dream had been so surprising.

However, as obvious as he thought it was that Cana had inspired the whole thing about the spell, he knew that the idea behind it, the wish to find love, was all his own.

He certainly couldn’t deny that he was feeling pretty lonely these days. 

When his parents had left, he’d had great hopes of spending long nights writing, working on new songs, or even catching up on his reading. And while all those things had definitely happened, there was one thing he hadn’t factored in.

The silence. 

Before Gray had left for college, and his parents had moved to Alvarez, their house had always been busy. Gildarts and Cana could usually be counted on to be about as well, adding to the ever present noise. There had always been someone around to watch TV or play video games with. 

Now there was nothing but a big empty house that Rogue was suddenly responsible for, and it was filled to the rafters with the silence his loved ones had left in their wake.

It was deafening, and no matter what he tried he could never seem to quiet it.

As if that wasn’t bad enough, he’d broken up with his boyfriend weeks earlier. Not that they’d been together very long, or that Rogue had any regrets about his decision, but at least spending time with Maru had offered a break from the monotony of his days.

His band Phantom Lord, of which Maru was the drummer, was the only real social interaction he had at the moment. Unless you counted the random hookups he’d tried at their last few gigs, drunk on cheap alcohol and the hope that a spark might ignite with one of these people that seemed so hungry for his attention. 

Far from it, they usually left once they were done, content with having fooled around with someone in a band, but having no real interest in anything more. It was the same at the parties and clubs Rogue forced himself to attend, an effort to delay the inevitable return to his house. 

Everyone was interested in his looks and the fact that he was a part of Phantom Lord, and although a good time could be had easily enough, any pleasure he felt was hollow at best.

He wanted someone he could connect with, who was interested in him because they found him appealing or had things in common.

He _wanted_ , he noted wryly, someone just like that person he’d tried to spell into existence in his dream. A man who could vanquish his loneliness and make him feel something again.

But so far, that person didn’t seem to exist in Magnolia. 

Rogue snapped out of his musings long enough to glance down at his phone and realize he would be late for class if he didn’t hurry. He wolfed down the toast and juice he’d put together and ran out the door, wearing his guitar on his back and dragging his backpack behind him.

He went from class to class, groaning at the ever growing number of assignments the professors dumped on them. Thankfully today was Wednesday, and he had band practice right after his last class. That thought alone cheered him up immensely. 

He and Gajeel had been playing around with a new song, and Rogue had spent most of the previous night working on it, eager to make some progress that he could show his band members. 

He all but counted the minutes until the end of his last class, impatiently collecting his stuff and jumping up from his seat as soon as it was dismissed. He’d made it all the way to his car when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He grabbed it, seeing it was a call from Gajeel.

“Hey, I’m on my way,” Rogue answered the phone, the device awkwardly pressed between his shoulder and his ear so he could put his guitar and backpack on the back seat, “Do you need me to pick up something?” 

“Don’t bother, it’s a mess over here. There was a small fire earlier and they’re gonna have to close down for repairs for a week or two,” Gajeel sounded agitated and Rogue could hear the sound of sirens in the background. “I gotta go, I’ll text you when I figure out where we can practice in the meantime.

In his disappointment, Rogue almost suggested practicing in his garage, but the idea of having Maru at his house quickly decided him against it. “Oh. Okay. Well then, keep me posted, I guess?”

A grunt was all he got in reply before the line went dead.

Well, that’s just great, Rogue thought, his mood darkening at the idea of going back to his empty home already. Remembering all the work he needed to get done, he grabbed his backpack again but left the guitar, locking the car and turning around to head back towards the library. Might as well get some of it done.

It had been a while since he had set foot in the university’s library, and he was surprised to see just how crowded it was. Every table was occupied. Walking through the main room, he searched for an empty chair, keeping an eye open for anyone he recognized, on the off chance there might be an opening at their table.

As luck would have it, a table opened up just as he walked past it, and he immediately claimed it, setting his backpack on the floor next to him. Opening it, he pulled out the first thing he got his hands on without looking, dismayed to see that it was his biology textbook, the one class he hated with a passion. 

Telling himself to just get it over with, he accepted his fate, grabbing his laptop to examine the worksheet the professor had assigned. It didn’t take long for his frustrations to build up, because the whole reason why he disliked biology so much was that he just couldn’t keep up. He had a great memory, which was the only reason why he wasn’t completely failing the class yet, but the fundamental principles of the science just went way beyond him. Maybe he should just do something else and hope Gajeel would be able to help him with this sometime, in the meantime, he could focus on a different subject. 

Just as he leaned over to reach for another book, he heard a voice ask, “Hey, is this seat taken?”

Rogue gave a small jump, not expecting the interruption. When he looked up, he came face to face with a guy with blond hair, a smile like the ones you’d see in toothpaste commercials, and a pair of the bluest eyes Rogue had ever seen crinkling down at him in amusement.  
  
In the time it took Rogue to force his jaws back together and reply with a stupefied, “Oh, uhm, not at all,” the guy had already dropped his backpack on the table and sat down across from him. Rogue’s thoughts went back to his dream, and even though it was completely irrational, he couldn’t stop his hand from subtly patting his chest, searching for the pouch that he knew wouldn’t be there.  
  
But when the guy flashed him another one of those smiles that were already making his heart race, he wondered if he’d somehow managed to cast that spell after all.


	2. Chapter 2

The sound of the backpack zipper opening seemed louder than it should due to the library being so silent, but the guy in front of Rogue didn’t seem to notice, muttering to himself as he emptied what must have been half its contents in search of something.

Rogue watched in silent fascination as a small pile of receipts, empty food wrappers, used paper products, and a few jewels of loose change littered the previously pristine table, finally ending when the desired item was found. A familiar book, one which he had just put away in his own neatly organized backpack, sat in front of the stranger.

Foreign accent, tall, blond, wearing crop tops… As Rogue observed him more closely, he was excited to realize he’d seen this guy before. 

“You’re in my Bio class!”

“Really? I didn’t notice, classes here are so much bigger than I’m used to. The name is Sting Eucliffe,” he extended his hand out to Rogue in greeting, waiting patiently for him to shake it.

Rogue was amused by the formality, but he shook it nonetheless, figuring it must be more common wherever he was from.

“I’m Rogue Fullbuster,” he introduced himself, “Nice to meet you.”

“Same!” Sting beamed, again with that smile that was brighter than Rogue’s future, “Did you already do the worksheet?”

Rogue groaned, putting his head on the table for dramatic effect. The sound of Sting’s laughter surrounded him, making him lift his head again to see what Sting looked like when he laughed. Rogue should probably shush him, but he didn’t want to. 

“It’s not that bad,” Sting commented, opening the book to the chapter Rogue had just closed.

“Easy for you to say,” Rogue grumbled, “I’m a creative writing major, all this stuff is just gibberish to me.”

Sting gazed at him in surprise, “Why are you even taking it?”

“It was the only open class that would fulfill the requirement,” Rogue sighed, cursing himself yet again for waiting til the last minute to pick his classes.

“That’s rough,” Sting commiserated, “I can try help you if you want?”

“That would be amazing!”

“Sure,” Sting grabbed his book and moved to the seat next to Rogue, once again sifting through the contents of the backpack that Rogue had begun to consider more of a trash bin until he retrieved his laptop and opened it.

While it was busy booting up, Rogue got distracted by the scent of whatever cologne or body spray Sting was wearing. It smelled nice, although he couldn’t put his finger on what it was. All he knew was that it was pressing buttons that should be left unpressed if he ever wanted to get that biology assignment done. 

“I’m sorry, did you say something?” he finally managed to tear himself away from his thoughts when he realized Sting was talking to him. 

Everything about this guy was just a little too something, too loud, too messy, too handsome, a little voice inside his head added smugly, and he certainly couldn’t deny it.

“I was just asking how far you got?” Sting asked once again, looking slightly amused.

“Honestly?” Rogue grimaced, hating to admit he was having so much trouble, “I entered my name?”

And there was that laugh again, warm and full of mirth, lifting Rogue’s previous mood effortlessly. “Okay, uhm, let’s start at the first problem then.”

Sting began to explain the concepts that minutes ago had been incomprehensible. To his amazement, Rogue found that once he was able to concentrate on the words rather than the man who was saying them and his cute accent, he was actually able to understand some of it. Sting never lost patience with him, only stopping once to chuckle, “Wow, you really suck at this,” before launching into another explanation.

An hour later, they had both finished the homework. Rogue looked out the large library windows, not at all surprised to see it was already dark. 

“I don’t even know how to begin to thank you,” he admitted, “there was no way I would have gotten that done without your help. I feel like I should make it up to you somehow.”

Sting was about to reply when his stomach decided to do so for him. With a slight tint to his cheeks, he asked, “I don’t suppose you know any good places to eat around here? The food at the dorm kind of-”

“Sucks,” they both said in unison.

“Let me buy you dinner, it’s the least I can do,” Rogue suggested, even though they’d been working on homework it was the most fun he’d had in a long time.

“Alright, I gotta warn you though, I eat a lot,” Sting had already begun to stuff his book and laptop back into his backpack, along with all the other items that he’d piled on the table.

Rogue wasn’t too worried, he ate a lot also. He had already put his stuff away, so he led the way to the library exit, mildly surprised to see Sting hurry ahead of him to open the door, holding it open until Rogue walked through.

Well, that was  _ considerate _ , Rogue thought, once again flashing to his dream and the traits his dream self had written on the strips of paper. What had they been? 

Oh, yeah, that’s right. Rogue could remember quite clearly the one that said  _ nice ass _ , but that wasn’t something he was just going to check out right here and now...

That thought lasted a whopping 3 seconds before Rogue could feel the corners of his lips tugging upwards because who was he kidding, he totally was. And it was easy enough to be subtle about it. All he had to do was reach for his pocket to grab his pack of cigarettes- which he was going to do anyway- and pretend he was making sure nothing would fall out when in reality, he was looking  _ just _ a few extra inches to his side.

Yep, it was pretty nice, and the rest of him wasn’t bad either. Rogue cupped his hand around the cigarette sheltering it from the wind while he lit it, already considering where to go for dinner. 

He noticed the slight wrinkling of Sting’s nose at his smoking, but if it bothered him, he chose not to say anything, so Rogue decided to engage him in conversation. 

“Anything you’re in the mood for?” 

“I don’t suppose you know any good places that serve seafood?” Sting asked eagerly.

“Seafood?” Rogue was taken aback, that was definitely not what he’d been expecting to hear. “Uhm, I think there might be a place a few blocks away from here, my parents used to take us there.”

Rogue kept his cigarette in his mouth as he did a quick search on his phone for the restaurant he was thinking of, relieved to see he’d been right, the place was only a few blocks away.

“Looks like you’re in luck,” Rogue said, leading the way to the address listed on the site.

“Thanks,” Sting fell in step beside him, looking decidedly chipper.

“Don’t thank me yet,” Rogue smirked, “it might be terrible.”

“Can’t be any worse than what I’ve been eating lately,” Sting muttered, “Never thought I’d see the day when I’d tire of junk food.”

“I feel ‘ya, ever since my parents moved I’ve been eating crap too. Should’ve let my mom teach me how to cook when she offered,” Rogue laughed, remembering his few disastrous attempts at cooking for himself. “So, where are you from anyway?”

“Edolas,” Sting replied, and taking in Rogue’s blank expression added, “It’s an island to the east of here.”

“An island, huh? This must be pretty different for you,” Rogue commented, “What do you think of Magnolia so far?”

“I haven’t really got a chance to see very much of it yet.”

“Oh, that’s too bad, maybe I can help with that,” Rogue offered, hoping that Sting would take him up on it so that he could see more of him.

They chatted on the way to the restaurant, Rogue asking questions about Edolas and receiving responses that he only half-listened to, too intent on watching the way Sting’s eyes lit up when he was excited, or the way he used his hands to talk. Much too soon, they had arrived at the restaurant, which was a bit fancier than he remembered.

Enough so that he worried they might be sent away, given Sting’s outfit. However, the greeter only gave them the briefest of glances when he asked for a table, replying in an apologetic voice, “I’m sorry sir, we are reservation only and we are unfortunately all booked up for this evening. Perhaps you can join us another time?” 

Rogue thanked her and went looking for Sting, who had somehow disappeared from his side. He found him standing in front of a lobster tank, which was full of the crustaceans, each with their claws held shut by a band. 

He couldn’t help a smile, Sting was talking to the lobsters contained within, arms once again moving a mile a minute, but it was his words that he found amusing.

“Aren’t you a pretty fella?” Sting cooed at the largest lobster Rogue could ever remember seeing. “Bet you look even better inside my belly.” 

“Making friends?” Rogue teased, ignoring the looks they were getting from the other people who were waiting to be seated.

“Oh, haha,” Sting replied, hand moving to his neck, “Never seen one that big before.”

“That’s what he said,” Rogue replied out of habit, but he was surprised to see Sting stare at him curiously.

“Oh, that’s just something my friends-, “Rogue began to explain but thought better of it, “You know what? Nevermind, stupid joke.”

“Yeah, I’ve heard that joke before,” Sting clarified, “I was just surprised that you used  _ he _ .”

“Is that a problem?” Rogue tensed slightly, he thought he’d gotten a certain vibe from his friend earlier, but maybe he’d been wrong?

“I’d hope not,” Sting laughed, turning back to the lobster tank and mouthing  _ Thank You _ before cheerfully adding, “I’m still going to totally eat you, though.”

“I’m sorry to say, you’re not,” Rogue announced, “They’re booked for the evening.”

“Oh man, that sucks,” Sting whined, “I was looking forward to it.”

“I think the place next door sells fish sandwiches,” Rogue cajoled, trying to get out of the restaurant before they caused a scene.

“Not what I had in mind,” Sting pouted but seemed to consider Rogue’s offer nonetheless, finally turning back to the lobster tank and pointing at it. “Don’t look so smug Sheldon, this isn’t over,” before following Rogue out the door.

The place next door did indeed sell fish sandwiches, along with a host of other things, but it was also extremely noisy. Rogue didn’t mind all that much, he was used to Fairy Tail on weekends after all, and few things were louder than that, but Sting looked disappointed.

They put in their order at the counter and sat down at a table, waiting for their number to be called. Music was blaring from the speakers, and people were yelling in an attempt to be heard over it.

“This is worse than my dorm,” Sting yelled across the table.

Rogue shrugged, shouting back, “My band plays the bar circuit on weekends, I’m kind of used to it.”

“I know, I saw you guys play last weekend.” 

“Oh? What did you think?” Rogue asked, he knew his guitar playing was decent, but he was always nervous to hear of what people thought.

Their number was called just as Sting was about to answer, and Rogue couldn’t blame him for hurrying to fetch their food, considering they were both starving, but it still made Rogue wonder if he’d been avoiding his question.

They ate their sandwiches, attempting some small talk, but as most of it got lost in the noise, they soon gave up and tried to get out of there as quickly as possible. In a record 15 minutes, they were back outside, and Rogue noticed Sting gazing at the other restaurant with longing.

“Fish sandwich not up to your standards?” he teased.

“It was alright,” Sting muttered.

“I sure hope so, you ate five of them!” Rogue laughed, “I thought that lady was gonna pass out when she saw how much food we ordered.

“Yeah, that was kind of funny,” Sting admitted.

Rogue looked at his watch and noticed it was getting late. Too bad it was Wednesday, else he could’ve asked Sting if he wanted to get some drinks. The dinner hadn’t exactly gone the way he’d hoped. “We’ll just have to make a reservation next time,” he suggested, already thinking of a retake at the fancier, more atmospheric seafood restaurant. 

“Next time?” Sting raised an eyebrow, “I like the sound of that. Does that mean I can get your number?”

“Sure, but only if I can get yours too. I don’t think I’ll pass Bio without you,” Rogue retorted.

“Not the answer I was looking for, but it’ll do for now,” Sting winked, handing Rogue his phone so he could plug in his number.

0-0 

_ October 10, 2012 _

Although Rogue was used to having an audience by now, it felt kind of weird to have a single spectator during a rehearsal. He wasn’t the type to enjoy being in the spotlight all that much, but when they played in crowded student bars, he’d quickly get swept up in the atmosphere and forget everything but the songs they were playing. That proved to be somewhat more difficult with someone as distracting as Sting watching them, as even though he was casually doing some homework, he’d break into a wide smile every time his eyes met Rogue’s, which happened, well…quite a lot of times. 

And if that wasn’t enough of a distraction already, Rogue could practically feel Totomaru’s eyes burning into him, and he could tell by the fierceness of his drum playing that he wasn’t too happy about the situation.

Maybe he should have thought twice before suggesting Sting come along to band practice, but then again, it shouldn’t be such a big deal. The only reason why he’d come up with the idea was that they had agreed to study at Rogue’s place after, since the library had been so busy lately. If Maru wanted to have a jealous fit over that, it shouldn’t be his problem, right? They’d broken up, he was free to do whatever he wanted. 

With that in mind, and because he didn’t want to get teased for being distracted later, Rogue doubled up on his efforts, and...okay, maybe he wanted to show off a little as well. It proved to be good motivation, and soon those pretty blue eyes became a muse rather than a distraction. 

The love songs they often practiced suddenly took on new meaning, their words resonating as they flowed through him, making it difficult for him to meet Sting’s eyes, too afraid of exposing the feelings that he didn’t dare give a name to so soon.

At any rate, they played the stars from the sky, and satisfied with their progress, Gajeel called for a smoke break. As Rogue put his guitar away and grabbed his jacket, he was surprised to see that Sting was also putting on his coat, “Fresh air sounds good,” he smiled, turning to Juvia as he asked, “aren’t you coming?” 

“The air is never fresh around those three,” Juvia snorted, and she grabbed a sketchbook and a pencil case from her bag to keep herself busy, as she always did. 

They walked through the building to the alley where they smoked most of the time, so they wouldn’t block the sidewalk in front of the entrance. 

“Are you really that cold?” Rogue frowned at Sting, who buried the lower half of his face inside his scarf, pulled the hood of his winter coat over his head, and shoved his hands inside his pockets. The big fluffy fur trim that encircled his face made him look like he was about to scale Mt. Hakobe, instead of merely joining Rogue in the alley for his smoke break and he found that kind of adorable.

“I’m from an island,” Sting whined, his voice sounding muffled from behind the scarf, “It’s so much more colder over here, we usually don’t get these kinds of temperatures until it’s almost Christmas. How are you two still wearing only a shirt and a leather jacket?” 

“You should see my brother, he’s probably still walking around in just a t-shirt,” Rogue chuckled, lighting his cigarette and passing the lighter to Gajeel, who was holding out an open hand. “Does it ever snow in Edolas?” 

He thought about the fun they could have once it was really starting to get cold, perhaps introducing Sting to some things that were entirely new to him. That is, assuming he wouldn’t have resorted to hibernation. 

“It does, but like, very rarely? Maybe we get a day or two, or a week, at most? Usually, temperatures are well above the freezing level again by the end of January.” 

“Heh, just wait until you’ve experienced a Magnolian January,” Gajeel snorted, exchanging a knowing look with Rogue and Totomaru, who lit up a cigarette as well, “You’ll be claiming we’ve hit an ice age.” He held his cigarette between his lips as he reached out to touch the fur trim on Sting’s jacket, his eyebrows knitted together in an apprehensive frown. “At least you’re already dressed for one, ’s this shit real?”

“Eww, of course not!” Sting exclaimed, slightly offended but seemingly not minding the intrusion of his personal space. 

“Good.” 

Gajeel backed off again, satisfied with that answer, and Rogue breathed a sigh of relief at the thought that they’d all been spared of one of his seemingly endless rants. But on the subject of personal space, Rogue considered his definitely invaded when Maru moved closer to him, putting his hand on Rogue’s shoulder.

“So, Sting-” Maru blew a cloud of smoke in Sting’s direction, “have you done a lot of sightseeing already?” 

Waving the smoke away, Sting shook his head, “Not yet, I’m just starting to find my way around the university and stuff, but I was planning to do that during fall break.”

“Cool. You should take a day trip to Hargeon Port, oh, and try one of those canal rides here in Magnolia.” Looking at Rogue and giving his shoulder a squeeze, Maru continued, “We did that on some of our dates. It was really great, wasn’t it?” 

“Yeah, it was nice,” Rogue agreed with a forced smile. 

They’d had a great time together, he couldn’t deny that, and even if he’d ended their relationship, he still valued their friendship. But Maru made it no secret that he still had feelings for him, and Rogue was getting more and more frustrated by his constant attempts at getting back together. He just didn’t know what to do to make him understand that without snapping and possibly causing a big fight between them. 

He calmly removed Maru’s arm, taking the last hit from his cigarette before dropping it on the ground and stepping on it, “Let’s go back inside, we still have studying to do.”

“Sure, book nerd,” Maru teased, ruffling his hair. 

“Knock it, skunk!” The familiar nickname slipped out before he knew it as Rogue tried but failed to swat Maru’s hand away, bringing him back to times when things were a lot less complicated between them. Maybe, hopefully, those times would eventually return, when Maru would move on just like Rogue had done. 

“Come on, wouldn’t want you to freeze to death,” he joked at Sting, sticking out his tongue at the dramatic pout he received in response. 

They went back inside and played a few more songs, the newer ones they hadn’t gotten a chance to practice last week since the studio had to close for repairs due to the fire. All the while, Rogue was dying to leave, for two reasons. He wanted to study, not just because that meant spending time alone with Sting, but because midterms were coming up. But the main reason why he wanted to get them out of there had everything to do with the way Sting was getting awkward under Maru’s scrutinizing stares. 

He was more than relieved when the song they’d agreed to be their last had ended. Flashing Sting an apologetic smile, he quickly put his guitar into the carrier and grabbed the rest of his stuff. “See you guys next week,” he called over his shoulder as he led the way out of the studio, walking a little faster than usual. 

“Sorry it took so long, we have a gig this weekend,” he explained, searching his pockets for his car keys, “Shall we get some food delivered? We can get started while we wait.”

“Yeah, good idea, I’m starving!”

“So, three large pizzas then?” Rogue grinned, already used to the ridiculous amounts of food Sting put away regularly.

Sting’s face wrinkled in thought, “You think that’ll be enough?”

“Gotta leave some room for dessert,” Rogue shrugged smugly, “Unless, of course, you don’t want any ice cream, or lava cakes, or…”  _ Me _ , his thoughts happily supplied. 

“There’s always room for dessert,” Sting replied very seriously, “it’s the most important meal of the day.”

“Dessert is not a meal!” Rogue laughed, and although Sting was trying to keep a straight face, he couldn’t hide the twinkle in his eyes.

“Yes it is. I say so,” Sting claimed, losing the ability to hold back his laughter before he’d finished the sentence. 

They got into the car, immediately bickering over the music that played on the radio, and Rogue was amazed at how at home he already felt around Sting like they had known each other for ages rather than just a short week.

0-0

They were still laughing when Rogue opened the door to his house, although he wasn’t sure what they were even laughing about, he just knew it felt nice. He took off his shoes and showed Sting where to put his so as not to get any dirt on the floor.

Rogue led the way to the dining room table, where they both dumped their backpacks and Rogue’s guitar.

“So this is where you live,” Sting commented as he looked around.

“Yep, oh bathroom is that way if you need to go,” Rogue pointed at the door to the half bathroom that was located just off the kitchen while he looked up the number for the pizza place he liked.

“Don’t forget to get the lava cakes, “Sting urged, tossing his credit card at Rogue, “My treat this time.”

Just to mess with him, Rogue pretended to forget the lava cakes when he got the pizza place on the line and placed their order, only mentioning them at the very last second. The poor soul on the other end of the line probably didn’t know what hit them when Sting’s gape of horror had Rogue in tears, wheezing as he listed his address and managed a “See you later.”

As soon as he’d hung up and put his phone away, he knew he was going to pay for it. Sting came charging at him with one of the soft pillows from the couch, delivering a few well-placed blows as they tumbled to the floor.

Still laughing, Rogue held his arms up in mock defense from the continuing onslaught, “I give, I give!”

Sting let up, blue eyes twinkling with mischief as he leaned ever closer before grabbing the pillow and getting up, leaving Rogue feeling incredibly disappointed. “Thought so!” he grinned victoriously, holding out his hand to help Rogue off the floor.

Rogue released a sigh, playing it off as a side effect from his laughing fit, “Alright, let me show you around the house, I doubt you’ll be focused enough to study with lava cakes on your mind.” 

There wasn’t that much to show since Sting had already seen the hallway and the living room, which crossed into the dining room, but Rogue needed something to drag himself down to earth again. He showed Sting every room in the house except for his parents’ bedroom and their bathroom, finally ending the short tour in the basement. 

“Guest bedroom-” Rogue opened the door to the room his dad and Gildarts had built for Cana when she, Gray and Rogue were in their teens, so she could have her own room and Gray didn’t have to share his with Rogue anymore. It hadn’t been used in a few years, and over time it had been filled with all sorts of old junk that his parents had meant to sort out and either donate or throw away. 

“Still more tidier than my room at the dorm,” Sting chuckled sheepishly, “at least here you can still see the floor.”

“Why am I not surprised?” Rogue muttered under his breath before turning around to his favorite part of the house, “And last but not least, the entertainment room -,” he was about to say more when Sting interrupted him.

“You have a pool table?! That’s so cool, can we play a game while we wait for the pizza?” Sting asked hopefully.

“Sure,” Rogue shrugged, setting up the table while Sting grabbed some cue sticks, “You any good?”

“I’m alright,” Sting conceded, handing Rogue a stick while grabbing some chalk and applying it to the tip of his own.

“Well then, show me what you’ve got,” Rogue taunted, completely trash-talking cause regardless of owning a table he was only average at it.

“Alright,” Sting furrowed his brow in concentration and hit the cue ball as hard as he could, but even though it made an impressive sound, none of the balls went into any of the pockets. He bit his lip, looking at the floor. Clearly, that hadn’t gone like he’d wanted. 

Rogue laughed, “Well that was, uhm… something. Wanna try again?”

When Sting nodded, he reset the balls and stood back. This time it went much better, and they started a proper game with Sting calling stripes.

“So, uhm, can I ask you something?” Sting was fiddling with his cue stick making Rogue awfully curious as to what he wanted to know.

“Could I even stop you?” Rogue snorted good-naturedly as he set up for his next shot.

Sting chuckled but wouldn’t meet his eyes, “What’s the deal with the drummer? He was definitely shooting daggers at me earlier.”

“Yeah, I’m sorry about that,” Rogue aimed the cue ball at the nearest solid ball, attempting to get it into one of the side pockets, not at all surprised when he missed. With a sigh, he added, “We used to date, but I broke it off. He’s just having a hard time accepting that.”

“I thought it might be something like that,” Sting commented, “Isn’t it hard to be in the same band?”

“He’s a good drummer, I’m kind of hoping he’ll get over it sooner rather than later,” Rogue heard the doorbell ring and put his stick away to head upstairs. “Guess that’s game.”

Sting followed, needing to sign the slip for their food. Once the door was opened, he moaned happily at the smell of chocolate wafting towards him, and if Rogue didn’t know better, he would have thought the idiot was getting ready to hug the delivery man.

“Down boy,” he muttered, feeling a tad jealous for no discernible reason, even as Sting looked back and grinned at him, arms laden with boxes.

“Food!” he cheered, carrying the boxes to the dining room while Rogue got some paper plates and sodas ready.

By the time he brought them in, Sting was already inhaling the first pizza. Twenty minutes later, there was nothing left, and after doing a quick cleanup, it was time to study.

“Do you want me to play some music or something?” Rogue asked.

“No, this is great,” Sting answered, looking down at his phone. “I work better without it, it’s one of the reasons I go to the library, there’s always music playing in our suite, and I feel like a jerk to ask them to turn-” he stopped in the middle of the sentence as he looked at his phone once again and started laughing.

“What are you doing?”

“Oh, you should see this,” Sting laughed, “my roommate just sent me this great TikTok!”

“ _ After _ we get some studying done,” Rogue reminded him.

“Right!” Sting gave him a mock salute, grabbing his backpack and opening it up to grab his laptop. “Oh hey, can I get your wireless password?”

Rogue tried to ignore the amount of trash that fell out of the backpack in the process, but it was a losing battle. “Do you want me to show you where the trash bin is?”

“Hmm?” Sting peered at him absently, still in the process of booting up his laptop.

“Nevermind,” Rogue sighed, entering the password and sitting down with his own laptop. He had a feeling that it wouldn’t make much of a difference if he got Sting to tidy up the backpack now, it would probably be just as messy again within a few days. Sting just wasn’t a neat person, which was just about the only flaw Rogue had found in him so far. 

“We should start with Bio before we get tired,” Sting suggested, pulling his book out and opening it to the chapter they had been covering that week. For the next hour, Sting went over everything they were supposed to have learned, explaining it so that Rogue was able to understand it.

He took lots of notes, knowing he might forget when he had to study without Sting there, but once they were done and had each moved on to different subjects, Rogue mostly ogled his new friend. Biology was his weakest subject, and he couldn’t help but be fascinated by the way Sting’s forehead furrowed in concentration when he read something he didn’t quite understand, or how his tongue peeked out when he was doing math problems. It was very distracting, and Rogue couldn’t help but wonder what it would have felt like if Sting had kissed him earlier, rather than just teasing him with the pillows.

“Aren’t you going to study?” Sting interrupted his train of thought, which was probably a good thing.

“I sort of am, I’m thinking about this story I have to write for one of my classes,” Rogue lied, having not done anything but stare for the last thirty minutes or so.

“Funny, your thinking looks a lot like checking me out,” Sting grinned.

“Someone’s a little self-centered,” Rogue retorted, reluctant to admit that Sting had pretty much hit the nail right on the head.

Sting snickered but chose not to comment, going back to his book and making exaggerated expressions every few minutes until he was once again distracted by his phone.

Rogue made a point of opening a book and staring into it, embarrassed at having been caught. Would it have been so bad to admit it? Time passed quickly as they both tried to get their work done, and much too soon, it was time to drive Sting back to the dorms.

On the way back, he thought about how pleasant it had felt to have company, even if they had studied for most of it. Maybe he should invite Sting over to study more often, midterms were coming up soon, and he’d definitely need help with Biology.

“You’re a lifesaver,” Sting announced with great enthusiasm, “I got so much stuff done! It would have taken me days to get that done in my room or even the library.”

“Midterms are coming up,” Rogue dangled an unspoken invitation, waiting to see how Sting reacted.

“Oh that would be great, even only for a day or two,” Sting beamed, “That would be so much help.”

Maybe it was because of how much fun they’d had, or the way Sting made him forget so many things that had used to bother him. All Rogue knew was that his infatuation with Sting continued to grow in leaps and bounds, making him question whether he could possibly already be falling in love with the exchange student. 

He wasn’t really the type of person to be spontaneous, but the reality was that he didn’t have a lot of time to figure out his feelings, not when Sting would return home at the end of the school year. 

So before he could overthink it or let himself chicken out, he blurted out, “Why don’t you stay with me for exam week?”


	3. Chapter 3

_ October 14, 2012 _ _  
_ _  
  
_

Ever since Sting had accepted his impulsive invitation to study for the upcoming midterms at his house, Rogue had felt like time had slowed to a crawl. Not even his gig in Clover the previous evening had done anything to curb that feeling.  And now that the time had finally come, all his excitement seemed to have turned into an insecurity he wasn’t familiar with.   
  
He knew that most of their time together would be spent studying for exams, but he couldn’t help the hope that something more might develop in the moments in between. It certainly didn’t hurt to make an effort.    
  
But what if his neatness drove Sting crazy? Or he managed to insult him somehow? Or Gods, what if he’d been reading the signals all wrong, and he ended up throwing himself at the guy only to find he wasn’t interested? He’d had plenty of chances to kiss him and had taken exactly zero of them.

He’d worked himself up the whole drive down to the University. 

By the time Sting got into the car, Rogue was a tangle of nerves. They spent the ride home discussing which midterms they would be studying for and agreeing to relax for the remainder of the day before they got started. While the thought of starting off their week together with a lazy Sunday was precisely the type of thing he’d been hoping for, it also put pressure on him to have everything go right.

“Thanks again for letting me stay,” Sting huffed as he carried his duffel bag and oversized, filled to the brim backpack into the house, refusing Rogue’s offer to help.

“Yeah, no problem,” Rogue tossed his keys on the kitchen counter. Feeling suddenly shy and not wanting to show it, he led Sting to Gray’s old room so he could drop off his stuff.

Sting followed him, dumping his bags unceremoniously on the bed and looking around with curious eyes.   
  
“That’s your brother, right?” Sting asked, pointing at a family picture that was hanging on the wall. “I feel like I’ve seen him before.”

“You probably have. He’s been working as a model for a few years now.”

“He looks a lot like your dad,” Sting remarked before shifting his scrutiny to the collection of medals and trophies Gray had accumulated since he’d first started playing hockey. 

“How about you? Do you have any siblings?” Rogue asked, scrambling for any conversation topic that might ease him out of his timidity.

“Nah, it’s just me. So, do you play too?” Sting eyed him with interest.

“For fun, but you won’t find any trophies in my room. That was Gray’s thing.” Rogue chuckled, “I just like to skate.”

When he was younger, he’d considered giving competitive figure skating a go. His dad had even supported the idea, spending hours building a rink in the backyard together with him and Gray so he wouldn’t have to drive them to the local one as often. It had been grueling work to get the hang of the moves, and while Rogue had been good at it, he’d eventually discovered things he loved more.

“I do have a nice keepsake from my hockey days, though,” he grinned, rubbing his finger over the scar that crossed the bridge of his nose.

“Oh, wow! That must have hurt,” Sting moved closer to examine his nose, wrapping him in the smell of that enticing cologne of which Rogue still hadn’t discovered the name.   
  
“Yeah...” Rogue answered absently, paying more attention to the way Sting’s lips moved when he spoke than he did to the words that came out. They were temptingly close. All he had to do was lean over and kiss them, but just when he’d been about to close the remaining gap between them, Sting had already moved away.

“Hey, you got anything to eat around here?” Sting asked, leaving Rogue to stare at him in confusion.

“Oh, right,” he blinked himself back to reality, “I put off grocery shopping until you got here, wasn’t sure what you’d like.”

“Oh, that’s great! I’ve only been to the convenience store near the dorm. I can’t wait to see what a big Magnolian grocery store has to offer!”

“Well, at least one of us is excited,” Rogue muttered, amused at fielding question after question on a place he usually tried to avoid. It gave him an idea, though. That adage about the way to a man’s heart being through his stomach could work to his advantage here.

True, he couldn’t cook worth a damn, but surely there must be something he could pull off to impress Sting.    
  
  
0-0   
  


The trip to the grocery store was certainly memorable. Sting had walked through every single aisle, oohing and aahing over items he’d never tried and piling them into their cart. Rogue had finally given up and gotten his own cart, not finding it in his heart to dampen Sting’s enthusiasm.

They’d also gotten plenty of looks from other shoppers, which Rogue had done his best to ignore. He hadn’t come up with any great ideas for dinner. Everything he’d considered seemed so involved. That was until he walked past the lobster tank and remembered how disappointed Sting had been when he hadn’t gotten to eat ”Sheldon” at that seafood restaurant.

He was pretty sure you just chucked the things into a pot of boiling water. Sounded easy enough to him. Feeling pleased with his choice, he studied the tank’s contents, searching for the two largest lobsters he could find, knowing both of them ate a lot.

Once he’d identified the ones he wanted, he went off in search of an employee. 

0-0

Rogue had managed to keep the contents of the cooler a secret. It wasn’t all that difficult considering the amount of bags in the trunk. He was more concerned about where they were going to store all the food they’d bought. At least it was cold enough that they could leave the drinks out on the porch.

Not that he should have worried, Sting kept picking items out of the bags and shoving them in his mouth, making pleased noises that were driving Rogue crazy. 

“Mhmmmmmm, these are amazing! Want some?” Sting waved a bag of onion-flavored rings under his nose.

Rogue grabbed a couple, realizing he hadn’t had them for years. “Oh man, I used to love these. I didn’t know they still made them.”

Sting finally noticed the cooler when it moved slightly from its perch on the counter. “What’s in there?”

“Oh, that?” Rogue replied evenly, feigning indifference, “Just something I picked up. I thought I might try cooking dinner tonight.”

Sting arched an eyebrow and promptly removed the lid, peering in at the contents. “You got lobsters?”

“Yeah, it seemed like you liked them,” Rogue shrugged, finding spots for the rest of the groceries.

“I do! My mom makes really good Lobster Thermidor.”

Well, fuck. What the hell was lobster...whatever Sting said? It sounded a lot fancier than Rogue’s idea of boiling the shits like a pack of instant-ramen, not to mention the fact that he’d set himself up to compete against Sting’s mother’s cooking. He didn’t know a thing about the woman, but he’d bet his life that she was a better cook than he was. 

“Those are big fellas. Oh, wait,” Sting had picked up one of the lobsters to examine it, “I think this one might be a Sheila.”

“How can you tell?” 

“Oh, uhm,” Sting chuckled, sounding embarrassed, “when I was younger, I wanted to be a marine biologist. My parents would take me to the aquarium whenever they could, and I learned a lot. Pretty lame, huh?”

“Not at all. I mean, if you want to talk lame, I wanted to be a figure skater at one point,” he confessed, encouraged by Sting sharing that with him. “So which one's Sheldon and which one's Sheila?”

Rogue listened with interest as Sting pointed at the tails’ subtle differences and revealed what they meant. Once the explanation was over, Sting glanced at the pot that sat on the stove.

“You’re going to need a larger pot to boil these.”

“Right.” Challenge number one, where the heck did his mom keep the big pots? Rogue opened the cabinets, searching for anything bigger than the one he used to boil pasta. 

“I’ll be right back,” he went to the basement, remembering his mother sometimes sent him there to find appliances she didn’t use all the time, and heaving a sigh of relief when he saw a pot big enough to bathe in. Okay, maybe not quite that big, but it should be enough for two lobsters.

And while he was down there, he took the opportunity to do a quick google search on how to cook lobster thermostat. Thermidor. Whatever. It turned out that it would involve cooking as well as broiling, which was even worse than he’d imagined, and the long list of ingredients wasn’t exactly reassuring either. But it was that list that turned out to be his saving grace, as he was sure he didn’t have everything on it.    
  
Oh no, such a shame, he smirked to himself as he continued to look for a less intimidating lobster recipe. 

“Everything okay down there?”

_ Crap! _

“Yeah, found one,” Rogue called out, putting his phone away and lugging his discovery up the stairs.

He’d washed the pot, filling it with water and as much salt as he dared, and then setting it on the stove to boil. They’d talked about watching a movie after dinner, and Sting had left him in the kitchen while he’d gone to Gray’s room, determined to set up his work area, as he called it, for the next day.

And now, Rogue found himself facing his next challenge. Once the water had come to a rolling boil, he’d grabbed one of the lobsters, ready to plunge it into the pot, when he’d made one fatal mistake. He’d looked into its eyes.

No matter how much he told himself that the thing wasn’t intelligent, he just couldn’t find it in himself to kill it . And as he stared into the eyes of the crustacean he’d condemned to death, Rogue couldn’t help but think of how much simpler his life had been before he’d decided he wanted something more from his relationships. 

“What are you doing?”

There was no mistaking the amusement in Sting’s voice, and it both irritated and humiliated him. It had been his bright idea to do this, and he couldn’t even go through with it.

‘“It was staring at me,” he murmured.

Sting chuckled but took pity on him, “Here, I’ll do it.”

He grabbed the lobster and asked for some scissors. He snipped the bands off its claws and lowered it into the pot carefully, repeating the procedure with the second one before placing the lid on the pot. There was an awful noise that followed, making it sound like the lobsters were screaming.

Rogue shuddered.

“Relax, it’s not what it sounds like,” Sting assured him, “Lobsters don’t have lungs or even vocal cords. It’s just air escaping through their shells.”  
  
“Whatever. The damn things better taste good,” Rogue pouted, still displeased by the way his plan was failing so far. But hey, the lobsters were boiling away now, and he’d found a cooking time table online, so there wasn’t much that could go wrong from here.  
  
“I guess that depends on the sauce or seasoning.”  
  
_Oh, for fuck’s sake._   
  
His face must have mirrored his frustration because once again, he heard the sound of Sting’s laughter. “It doesn’t have to be anything complicated. Oh, actually! We got mac and cheese, right?”

“Mac and cheese? With lobster?”

“Yeah! My mom used to make that for me when I was little. Well, she made it from scratch,” Sting admitted, “but this will be good too!”

By this point, Rogue just wanted to be done with the whole thing, so the idea of at least being able to make something he knew he couldn’t fuck up cheered him immensely. He walked over to the pantry and moved stuff around until he’d found the family size box of mac and cheese they’d bought and set about preparing it.

The timer went off, and he watched as Sting used tongs to take out the lobsters, which had turned a promising shade of bright red. He lay them on a cutting board and let them sit while he searched for a knife.

Rogue turned away as the sounds of Sting removing the meat from the shell revolted him. He busied himself with his task, trying not to think about what was happening.

“Do I have to do anything differently?”

“Nope, just let me know when it’s ready.”

Sting walked to the porch, grabbed two beers, opened them, and handed one over to Rogue, that amused smirk never far from his face.    
  
Once the mac and cheese was done, all they had to do was add the lobster meat, top it off with some breadcrumbs, and put it in the oven for a few minutes. In the meantime, Rogue began the process of cleaning the kitchen, pulling a face as he dumped the hollowed out shells in the trash bin and wiped the lobster juices off the counter.   
  
Although it wasn’t all that fancy, the dish that came out looked better than any of Rogue’s previous attempts to cook his own food. Not that he felt he had much to be proud of, as he’d mostly just boiled water and made instant mac and cheese, but cooking was definitely a lot less frustrating when he didn’t have to do it alone. Maybe they could cook together again sometime this week, preferably with food that couldn’t scream, move or stare at him.    
  
They settled on the couch, and while Rogue was browsing through Netflix, looking for a movie they could watch, he could tell by the moaning sounds that Sting had already dug into his food.    
  
“It’s good!” he said with his mouth still half full, “but you know what the best part is?”    
  
“Hm?” Rogue took a hesitant first bite, and he had to agree it did taste a lot better than he’d expected.   
  
“It’s that from now on, every time I eat lobster, I’ll remember your look of horror.” Sting dissolved into giggles, “I should have taken a picture!”

Rogue tried to glare, but now that it was over, he found himself laughing along. “Alright, but I hope you got a good look cause I am never doing that again. Next time we do this, it’ll be at a restaurant.”

“Deal, as long as we stop at the tank first,” Sting laughed at his pout, and it was arguably the best sound Rogue had ever heard. 

He sat back, having found a movie they were both interested in, and feeling more relaxed than he had all day. The realization that Sting hadn’t been against the idea of a next time boosted his confidence enough to let him enjoy the rest of the night and to set him thinking of what he might try next.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 2020 was a really busy year for us. We participated in a lot of events and as fun as that was we've decided to mostly step away from that for this year. Unfortunately trying to match event prompts kept us from moving forward on stories we'd been planning on for months and we'd like to try setting our own schedule for now.
> 
> We've started the year out with a Works in Progress month, in the hopes that we can finish or move along some of our open multis, or one-shots we started but never finished. It will also allow us to work on some of the individual projects we've been ignoring for too long.
> 
> We've decided to expand on this story a bit more than we'd originally planned so there will be a few more chapters than we'd anticipated. We hope you enjoy this one!


End file.
